For the First Time
by ridiculouslyoptimistic
Summary: Maybe all they needed was one night to figure it all out. The follow up to All Too Well. Auslly.


As he waved goodbye to the crowd and carried his guitar off stage, he wondered how life could get any better than this. He was quite literally living the dream; a phrase very few people in the world could say. The fact that his career had lasted this long was a miracle in itself. People always say that getting your first big break is the hardest part, but he disagreed. Longevity was the key, and thus far he had been lucky.

That being said, he owed much of his success to Ally. He knew how incredibly blessed he was to have her as a partner. And ever since they'd split up, nothing had been the same. Sure, his management could hire new songwriters, but it wasn't the same.

What he and Ally had was magic and although he knew she only thought he said it to be nice, he wasn't lying when he said she was the best songwriter in the business.

Ally Dawson: the girl who changed his life forever.

He smiled, as he always did, when he thought about her, although this time the feeling was bittersweet. He could still remember every detail of that fateful day and it made him feel as though his insides were being ripped apart when he thought about the pain he caused her.

Telling her it was over was the hardest thing he had ever done, but in the end, he felt it was for the best. He loved her more than anything and he would gladly give up his career for her, but he also knew her well enough that she would never allow him to do so in the first place. So they became stuck in this vicious cycle of guilt and resentment and regret until finally he decided that he needed to cut her loose.

So he let her go and he pretended he moved on, when in reality, he should have won an Oscar for his performance of a man hiding his inner turmoil from the world. In his eyes, she will always be the perfect girl, and he will always be the boy who doesn't deserve her.

He kept the scarf on purpose.

Everything else he mailed back because he couldn't stand the constant reminder or because it was the right thing to do or whatever other bullshit excuse he needed to tell himself to get by.

But he kept the scarf. It was red, her favorite color and he always smiled when he saw it because it reminded him of the time there was a freak snowstorm in Miami and they'd spent hours outside making snowmen and snow angels and having a snowball fight. She'd looked so beautiful with her rosy red cheeks and her eyes glittering in the moonlight and the snow leaving small flakes in her hair.

It was that moment that he realized that without Ally Dawson, his life would never be complete.

So when it was time to rid his life of her belongings, he conveniently forgot to pack the scarf.

And every day since, he had been thankful for that decision. The thick wool still held her familiar scent of lavender and sandalwood and he kept it on his pillow because it was the only way he could fall asleep anymore.

She'd called him a few days ago, three to be exact. After the abrupt way he'd ended their relationship, he was surprised she wanted to speak to him at all.

But then he supposed it shouldn't have been so surprising. Ally was not one to hold grudges. She was forgiving to a fault, so of course she would be the one to extend the metaphorical olive branch between them.

So when she called to say that she wanted to talk, he invited her to this show, hoping they could go somewhere afterwards and sort things out. Of course, she said yes. It seemed even when he broke her heart, Ally was still his incredibly supportive best friend. She was a saint, and no amount of pain on his part would change that.

She stood on the side of the stage, beaming as he approached and clapping her hands enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling as they always did when she watched him perform. Her two-toned hair was down and curly and she was wearing her favorite red dress.

The one she wore the night he realized that his feelings for her were more than platonic. The night he knew his life would never be the same.

"You were amazing," she exclaimed, immediately throwing her arms around his neck for a hug.

It's an act based entirely on habit and as he locks his arms around her waist and breathes in her familiar scent, he's silently thankful that she's a creature of routine. She pulls away slowly, clearing her throat as she tries to judge whether or not she had just made the situation uncomfortable and when she drops her arms he finds it physically painful to let go.

"I'm so glad you're here," he says, his words reassurance that he is in no way uncomfortable with her presence.

She lets out a sigh of relief and laces her fingers together at her front, twisting her rings nervously. He thinks it's strange that there's tension between them, because despite everything, they're still Austin and Ally, the world's best partnership.

"Come on," he says, nodding towards the exit to the private venue, "Let's go for a walk."

She nods, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder as she waits for him to put away his guitar and told the crew he'd come back to pick them up. The show was in a small pizza shop in the mall. He'd decided that it was time to get back to his roots and this was the best way to do that.

They walk in silence for a few moments, the sounds of car horns and the light Florida breeze filling the air. He shoves his fingers in his pockets to resist the urge to grab her hand, smiling nervously as he racks his brain for the right words to say.

"I've been writing," she finally breaks the silence, a sweet smile lighting her angelic features and causing his body to warm.

"That's great!" he says, meaning every word, because even if she's no longer writing songs for him, all he wants in the world is for her to be completely happy. "Do you have a lot of material for your next album?"

She nods and pauses for a moment, before adding quietly, "I have some for yours as well."

He stops short, turning to stare at her, wondering if he heard her correctly. There was no expectation that she would continue to write for him, but as he stares at her in awe, he realizes that nothing has changed between them: at the end of the day, they're still the perfect match and they always will be.

"You didn't have to do that," he whispers.

"Of course I did," she smiles. "Look, Austin, whether or not we're dating, we'll always be friends and partners. Nothing is going to change that."

He smiles and laughs, wondering how it was that she was able to read his mind and sighs in relief. He and Ally were part of each other's stories and singing songs written by anyone else would just feel wrong.

Laughing, she shoves him lightly on the arm and grins when she looks up at the store in front of which they stopped. He lets out a low chuckle as he reads the familiar sign.

How appropriate that they would unconsciously end up here, at Sonic Boom, where their story first began.

"Come on," she grins, digging through her purse and pulling out a key, "Let's go inside. For old time's sake."

He follows her through the front door and they make their way up the stairs to the practice room, smiling happily when they find it looks exactly the same. After he and Ally had left to go on tour, Mr. Dawson hadn't the heart to change anything about the room where the magic happened and Austin felt extremely grateful for the man's sense of nostalgia.

"We've had so many memories in this room," she sighs, running her fingers lightly over the top of the piano.

He nods in agreement as he stares at that familiar wooden bench and all of the memories come rushing back. This was the room where they wrote their first song together, where they had their meetings and planned their futures, where he taught her how to dance and she gave him advice when it seemed everything was falling apart. This was the room where they fell in love. And this was the room where he discovered that achieving his dream meant nothing if she wasn't with him every step of the way.

She smiles up at him from her perch on the piano bench and his stomach tightens into knots and before he can stop himself, he blurts out, "Ally, I still love you."

Instead of being shocked, she stretches her lips into a soft smile and nods slowly. "I know, Austin. I still love you, too."

He smiles widely until he realizes that this just makes their relationship all the more complicated. Sighing, he sinks into the nearest chair by the recording station, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "What happened to us?"

Licking her lips, she ponders the question for a moment before rising from the bench and taking a seat in the chair across from him.

"Do you ever wish," she begins, "Do you ever wish we hadn't started dating at all? Sometimes I think that the worst thing we ever did to our relationship was become a couple."

"Do you really think that?" he asks as he feels his heart begin to ache.

Although he agreed that sometimes being together made their lives difficult because it blurred the lines between personal and professional, he never once regretted their relationship. The only reason he'd ended things was because he knew she felt guilty and miserable and he couldn't stand to see her in so much pain. Her happiness was much more important than his broken heart.

Every day since, he'd wondered if maybe all they needed was one night to work everything out. Perhaps, that night had finally arrived.

She leans forward and smiles reassuringly, but he sees her eyes are wet with tears and he feels as though someone has punched him repeatedly in the stomach because seeing her cry is the most heart wrenching feeling in the world.

"Austin," she whispers, "I just don't want to ever see you lose your dream because you're too busy worried about making me happy."

"But you don't understand, Ally," he sighs, "It's not my dream if you're not there."

"Performing is all you've ever wanted," she cuts in, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"You're right," he agrees, "It is. But that dream doesn't mean anything if you're not there to share it with me."

"And I will be," she assured him, taking his hands between hers, "I'll always be with you."

He stares at her for a moment before shaking his head and laughing. "You still don't get it, do you? There will never be another girl. You're my one, Ally. You always have been."

She blinks at him a few times before responding. "Then why did you break up with me?"

"Because it's what you wanted."

One side of her mouth lifts into a smile and she shakes her head as she squeezes his hands tightly. "What I want is us: Austin and Ally, the greatest team the world has ever known. I just don't want us being a couple to get in the way of our partnership."

"It won't," he assures her, leaning forward, "As long as we remember to be flexible and understanding and know that we don't need to try so hard. Our relationship is already perfect the way it is and that doesn't need to change just because we're dating."

"So we go back to being the old us?" She leans forward as her smile grows.

He nods and smirks. "Just with a lot more kissing."

Before she can respond, he presses his lips firmly to hers, standing and pulling her tightly into his body. It feels as though they're kissing for the first time. It's sweet and passionate and tender and dizzying all at once and he finds he can't get enough of the taste of her lips. She grips his shirt, standing on her toes to deepen the kiss, causing his stomach to erupt into fluttering and his entire body to warm. They remain wrapped up in each other, grinning when they pull apart.

"I like that plan," she sighs, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I like the idea of starting from scratch."

"Who thought it would take us this long to realize all we needed was to be ourselves?" he laughs, swaying her lightly in his arms.

"Hey, I'm sure we'll make many more mistakes," she smiles, her fingers gently pulling on the hair at the nape of neck.

"With me, that's almost a certainty," he laughs.

The corners of her lips tug upwards as she rises to her toes once more, brushing her lips lightly over his before kissing him sweetly and mumbling against his mouth, "Good thing we have the rest of our lives to figure it out."


End file.
